


they say that romance makes you blind

by icanthelpbut_love_you



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV Magnus Bane, they're both sappy idiots and that's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanthelpbut_love_you/pseuds/icanthelpbut_love_you
Summary: well i'll be blinded for a lifetimeThe box in his pocket feels like it might combust from how hyperaware of its presence he is as he pads over to where his boyfriend leans against the railing. Magnus forces himself to refrain from brushing his hand against it again as he has countless times since picking it up on the way home.aka: a quiet night at the loft turns into something more





	they say that romance makes you blind

**Author's Note:**

> So the last few episodes have been an absolute emotional rollercoaster and this is a direct result. It's loosely canon as of 3x14 (except the loft thing because I refuse to accept that).
> 
> Shout out to kanicro for being the best sounding-board and also breaking up my monster paragraphs when necessary.  
> Title (and part of the summary) is from ‘Sun In Our Eyes’ by MØ & Diplo

Magnus can feel the day’s tension bleed slowly from his body as he steps into the loft. It’s dim inside, intimately lit. Alec’s name is already on his lips as he prepares to announce his presence to his as-yet elusive boyfriend when the open balcony door and soft sounds of the city catch his attention, alerting him to Alec’s whereabouts. His hand pats the pocket of his pants absentmindedly before he steps through to the balcony, pulled – as always – towards Alec.

He takes in the sight before him – a decadent-looking cheese platter and glass of champagne on the table, another glass in Alec’s hand as he looks out from the balcony – and feels a surge of yearning. It reminds him of the first time he met Alec (skittish and guileless and so, so young), but the feeling is tempered from a painful desperation into something soft and deep and all-consuming. 

Alec is gorgeous. He always is, dark hair and pale skin, hard lines and soft eyes, a study in contradictions. But never more so than when he stands in Magnus’ home – their home – at ease in a way Magnus has never seen him anywhere else. And if Magnus takes a certain amount of pleasure from seeing the shirt Alec is wearing – a dark green Henley, impossibly soft and with just enough shimmer around the collar to give away that it is definitely not one of Alec’s own – well... Magnus never claimed not to be a little shallow.

The box in his pocket feels like it might combust from how hyperaware of its presence he is as he pads over to where his boyfriend leans against the railing. Magnus forces himself to refrain from brushing his hand against it again as he has countless times since picking it up on the way home. It’s unbelievable how an object so innocuous can simultaneously feel like a dead weight and as though it might disappear at any moment. It’s also unbelievable, he muses, how incredibly long it took him to find pants in his vast wardrobe loose enough to fit more than a few coins in the pockets. 

In an effort to side-track his traitorous hands, he snags the champagne from the table on his way past and takes a sip. He could very easily snap his fingers and have a hundred glasses of champagne if he wished, and he knows that Alec knows this, but the glass waiting on the table for him is a gesture that is as sweet as it has become familiar. It’s been a good day, if Alec’s choice of drink is any indication. It’s not heavy enough to belie trouble at work and the bone-deep tiredness that brings, but at the same time it’s not one of the many fruity concoctions that give Alec away when he’s on edge but trying to pretend everything is fine. 

This is only confirmed when Magnus sidles up behind his boyfriend and makes himself comfortable, banishing his glass back to the table so he can wrap his arms around Alec’s waist and lean his chin on his shoulder. He feels more than sees the soft smile that spreads across Alec’s face as he brushes a kiss against the corner of Magnus’ lips, body completely devoid of tension as he leans back into the embrace. Magnus can’t help but shiver slightly as he feels Alec caressing his hands where they rest on his stomach. He traces patterns over Magnus’ wrists and then his palms, before deliberately intertwining their fingers so he can run his thumb along Magnus’ knuckles. Magnus can feel himself smiling now too, endlessly endeared by Alec’s penchant for casual touches and almost desperate need for physical affection. 

He frees one of his hands, chuckling slightly at Alec’s playful pout, incongruent with the way his thumb continues to rub soothingly against the hand that remains captive. With a slight wave, Magnus summons a strawberry from the table. It’s a lazy habit that would definitely earn him a mock telling-off from Alec in any other setting. But though enough time has passed since he managed to wrestle back his magic that he’s no longer overzealously banishing the entire couch to Argentina or (on one memorable occasion) setting their bedroom curtains on fire, it hasn’t been long enough for him to pass up the opportunity to revel in the simple joy it brings him. He’s not sure if it will ever be long enough. Whether it’s because he knows this or is simply too unwound to care, when he offers the strawberry to Alec by pressing it teasingly against his lips, Alec accepts it with nothing but a blush and a duck of his head. It’s reminiscent of their early days, when even accidentally brushing against Magnus’ hand as they walked together was enough to send redness bursting across Alec’s cheeks. 

Alec must sense Magnus wondering. 

“I just...” he trails off, voice husky and low in the twilight air. He waves the hand holding his glass as he searches for words, as though he’s almost hoping he can bypass the speaking part altogether, in a way that never fails to make Magnus bite back a grin. “Remember the last time you – the lobster?” 

It’s not quite coherent, and it surprises a laugh out of Magnus. He shakes his head fondly, remembering his bewilderment and amused frustration when he had offered Alec a piece of lobster only for Alec obliviously pluck it from the fork with his fingers. 

“God you were adorable,” Magnus teases, “Utterly hopeless. But adorable.” 

He playfully winces when Alec pinches his side in retaliation, grinning sheepishly and pressing his cheek against Magnus’.

“Hopeless for you.”

“That’s a bit cheesy, even for my adorable shadowhunter,” Magnus quips, feeling Alec’s body shake with silent mirth. 

Despite his protests, he sees Alec preen at the descriptor. Though Magnus knows he’d never get Alec to admit it he also knows that, after years of pretending, it’s still new and precious for Alec to see himself as anything other than the unyielding soldier he was trained to be. Magnus’ heart skips with the knowledge that he’s one of the few who sees Alec like this. Unguarded. Free. Staring out from his boyfriend’s balcony with his eyes fluttering closed in sheer peace, illuminated by the city lights.

Magnus brushes his lips against the sensitive skin behind Alec’s ear, making him shudder. 

“Marry me.” 

The words escape his lips before he can think about it, surprising him. But not nearly as much as they surprise Alec, who’s eyes fly open and fingers freeze where they had moved to stroke against Magnus’ palm once more. The hand holding his champagne trembles precariously and Magnus banishes the glass to join his own. Alec doesn’t seem to notice.

Magnus takes a steadying breath and unwraps himself from his still-motionless boyfriend, stepping back slightly and coaxing Alec to face him. This wasn’t how he intended to do this at all. But maybe this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. Unplanned and a little out of his control, framed by the wonderful evening Alec planned for them. Perfect. 

He sees Alec open his mouth, searching for words that once again don’t seem to be cooperating with him, and presses his finger to Alec’s lips. They both recognise the significance of the gesture, if Alec’s slight smirk is any indication. 

“I had a speech, you know,” he starts, “a plan. Or at least a vague idea of how I’d do this. Maybe some fireworks –”

“I don’t need a speech,” Alec interrupts his rambling, apparently having found his voice, even if the words are barely audible, “I only need you.” 

Magnus laughs shakily, as has become his reflex to Alec’s heart-stopping little confessions. Which really shouldn’t affect him so much at this point given their regularity, and given Alec’s propensity to bare his soul so casually in moments like these. 

“Stop that. Let me do this properly.” 

Alec presses his lips together obediently. Somehow, it manages to be almost as sarcastic as if he had just rolled his eyes. It’s just like him, though, to cut right to the heart of the matter. Maybe Magnus doesn’t need to spin a web of pretty words for tonight. Maybe he can relax and pour his heart out unfiltered to the man he loves. Maybe it’s his turn to be blunt for once. 

“I do remember you saying I was never much of a planner,” he starts, “I guess that’s a good thing, because I never could have planned for you.” 

“You are the best, most unpredictable thing that life could have sent my way. Everything I learn about you surprises me in the best way possible, but one thing that’s never a surprise is how much I love you. I don’t know what’s going to happen in either of our futures. I just know that I can’t imagine mine without you in it. That I want to be a part of yours.”

He pauses for a second, reluctantly releasing his hold on Alec’s waist as he reaches into his pocket, the little box suddenly feeling impossibly light as he finally frees it. Alec’s eyes widen and he looks somehow the most stunned he has so far, as if the fact that this is really happening is only now sinking in. Magnus can relate. 

He flips the lid open, cradling the ring between them, the simple band mesmerising as it catches the Brooklyn light. “Alexander Lightwood, will you marry me?”

The words have barely left his mouth when Alec is hauling him in. Magnus is distantly entertained as he contemplates that Alec’s restraint (barely held together by a thread on a normal day, if their track record is any indication) must have finally snapped, and then Alec is slotting their lips together, effectively silencing all the parts of his brain not necessary for kissing Alec back with every ounce of passion in his being. He feels Alec’s hand travelling restlessly up and down his shoulder, as though the need to touch is so overwhelming he’s not sure where to start. 

It sends shivers sparking up through Magnus’ body and he leans into the kiss, winding his arm around Alec’s neck and scratching gently at the short hair at the nape. Alec whines in the back of his throat and presses impossibly closer, deepening the kiss, and Magnus can taste the tang of champagne mixing with the sweetness of the strawberry still on Alec’s tongue.

It’s Alec who pulls back when the need for air becomes too much, the hint of smugness in his wrecked expression as Magnus chases his lips both infuriating and charming. They settle, foreheads still resting together, neither willing to move further apart.

“So that’s a no then?” 

Alec laughs breathlessly, and Magnus can’t help but do the same. 

“I could never say no to you,” Alec murmurs, breath puffing against Magnus’ lips, “even when I didn’t know how to say yes.”

It’s clearly a night for nostalgia. And for all that Magnus tends to try and stay in the present when he’s not recounting slightly embellished tales of past escapades, he finds he doesn’t mind letting his mind wander back in this case. They’ve come so far, and yet… for all the confidence Alec has gained and the unexpected contentment he himself has found, that initial spark, not only of attraction but of inexplicable familiarity, hasn’t changed in the slightest. As though the universe was telling them then, in the midst of Alec’s terror and Magnus’ jadedness, “This is it, this is the one you’ve always been meant to find.”

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” Alec’s voice, barely more than a choked-up whisper, echoes Magnus’ thoughts. 

For the second time in only a few minutes, Magnus is thrown by Alec’s earnestness, by how quickly he can flip the mood from light-hearted banter to sincerity that shakes Magnus to the core. To Magnus’ chagrin, he can feel tears prickling at the corners of his own eyes. The ring is still clutched in the hand not in Alec’s hair, and he reluctantly unwinds both, nudging Alec with his hip to try and gently untangle their embrace. 

Magnus laughs a little wetly when Alec’s grip tightens in defiance. “You’ll have to let me go if you want this ring on your finger.” 

The speed at which Alec untangles them then makes him grin, until Alec almost topples over in his haste and Magnus is the one tightening his grip as they both laugh.

Once they’ve stabilised, Magnus takes hold of Alec’s hand and removes the ring from where it’s nestled in the box (which he banishes to... somewhere). He stares transfixed as he slips it onto Alec’s finger, until Alec’s hitched intake of breath makes him look up. The sight he’s met with steals away all the air in his vicinity. He’ll say time and time again to anyone who will listen (and anyone who won’t, as Raphael has made abundantly clear on several occasions) that Alec is gorgeous. But like this, beaming, eyes glistening and a few tears starting to escape? Like this, Alec is devastating. 

Magnus reaches out, swiping the moisture from along Alec’s cheekbone. He goes speak, possibly to say something inadvisable and witty to try to break the tension and hold back the emotion building in his throat, but Alec beats him to it.

“I guess I’ll have to find the Lightwood ring for you then, won’t I.” 

It takes Magnus a few seconds to focus long enough to process exactly what Alec is saying. But when Alec brings Magnus’ left hand to his mouth and presses a tender kiss to the knuckle, the realisation jolts through him and what little remaining control he had over his emotions shatters completely. Dragging Alec back in for a searing kiss, he pays no mind to the tears now streaming down his cheeks as he stands there swaying in Alec’s arms. Swaying in his fiancé’s arms. 

“I guess you will, Mr Lightwood-Bane,” he breaths once he’s managed to tear himself away from Alec long enough to speak. 

It’s not something they’ve ever really discussed. In fact, if Alec hadn’t mentioned the Lightwood ring Magnus would have never even considered bringing it up himself, well aware of how touchy shadowhunters can be about their coveted family names. But Alec laughs delightedly against his lips, pulling him close again, and Magnus can’t remember why he was ever worried.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and yell with me on tumblr (@icanthelpbut-love-you)


End file.
